GRAVITY's video: Gutter Rich Remix - GRAVITY Prod By Vedang

The Gutter Rich Remix is a first in the series of remixes where I'll just be spitting bars on some dope/classic beats from both the international and Indian Hip-Hop soundscape. Original song by Shreyas, That Dude AJ and Vedang : https://youtu.be/VW32H5JC_Y0 Recorded at D-United Studios. Mixed and mastered by King SK. Lyrics: [Verse: GRAVITY] Look at my face, rainy days approaching quietly. The looking glass is like my past, and I admire thee. Dirty and stained, with some cigarette burns, Right where my heart should be and I figure it hurts. Vigorous worth, losing it is slipping in mud, And in hindsight, watch your back before you watch your mouth and words. Mountains burnt, 'cause it's fire at the peak, A liar with wings is at best a flyer down beneath. Admire me, I am the emperor, I rule the rich and dirty, Fuck with me, and I assure that all your bridges will be burning. Unconcerned, I am like Hermes, address it with my verses mate, Betray the man? Downward spiral like your vertabrae. A fallen angel that turned Satan, Bars got you scratching your head like it's a turntable. Move or hide, pulverize, shit is do or die. I'm from the gutter for real, call it the sewer side. When it rain, I shed a tear in the booth, young and hopeless, we broke, we cool like some snowflakes, This my crystalline projection, in the valleys of my temper, And my soul is gaining mist, while the brain's catching rust, this heart beats a chase. Leave an eel on your musk, I am eons ahead, turning neon to dust. Godspeed on your rush in this local train life, even seen on the bus. Hush, earphones in, to the world I'm a deaf man, Livin' hands write the cries of a deadman. Shallow eyes, expressionless, deadpan. If you ask me how high? Method and Redman. Child of November, with my eyes on the render, Exported to the waves, now I'm high in my shelter. Draped in my glory, and dressed in my gloom, Buried in my thoughts and I wait to be exhumed. I'm a hallow, a passenger, avenging the scavengers, X marks like calendars, the claws to your mandible. Flight of the vultures and the culture's being eaten from. Light at the end of the tunnel, I am the beacon, son!